


The Things That Attract

by Musyc



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Arthur Weasley - character, Community: the_playwitch, Draco Malfoy - character, F/M, Fetish, Seamus Finnigan - character, boot fetish, breast fetish, fat appreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-01
Updated: 2010-04-01
Packaged: 2017-10-08 14:42:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musyc/pseuds/Musyc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brief looks at what three men (Arthur, Draco, and Seamus) find sexually exciting. Written for the inaugural month at <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/the_playwitch">The Playwitch</a> on LJ.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things That Attract

From the day Lavender Brown walked onto the Hogwarts train with a rack she hadn't possessed the previous May, Seamus Finnigan knew without doubt he was a tit man. Big ones, small ones, jiggly ones, firm ones. It didn't matter in the slightest to him. They were all fantastic. He liked the ones that would fit in his hands, liked the ones that spilled out around his fingers.

Tits. Boobs. Honkers. Bazoombas. Knockers. Jugs. _Breasts_. Seamus liked 'em. He liked 'em all.

He liked the ones that were little hills on a woman's chest, barely shifting when she breathed as she lay on her back. He liked the ones that were huge mountains, swaying every time she moved. He liked to suck on them, to pull their pointed, rounded nipples into his mouth. Liked to roll his tongue around big nipples, flick his tongue over small nipples. Liked the crinkled skin of aureoles, from Laura's palest pink to Melinda's dusky tan to Victoria's darkest brown.

He liked to lick them, liked to touch them, liked to trail his lips and tongue and fingers over every inch. Liked to put his face between them, forming pillows around his ears. Liked to put his cock between them, fucking the valley made when he pushed them together. Liked to leave a shine of saliva on them when he licked, liked to leave a sheen of semen on them when he came.

He wasn't picky, wasn't particular. As long as they were there, he liked 'em. He could barely sit in the Three Broomsticks when Madam Rosmerta was working, with her chemises with the low, wide necklines, and her cleavage with the wide, deep shadows between her heavy breasts. Every day at work was a trial, when the woman who shared his office favored high-collared jumpers with tight ribbing that stretched over her small curves. Even wandering around Diagon Alley made him grateful for loose, disguising robes that covered up the erection he was certain he'd had since he was thirteen. Women, really. All of 'em, with their gorgeous breasts. Too amazing for words.

\---

Arthur Weasley has never heard the term "fat admirer", but if he had, he'd have agreed in a heartbeat. That was what he was. He never cared for the thin girls, with their collar bones jutting and their hip bones angular. He wanted a woman he could grip, flesh he could grab. He wanted hips that he could dig his fingers into, that he could clutch hard as he drove into a warm and slick cunt. He wanted breasts that swayed, that made mountains under a jumper, that he could burrow between until he was surrounded by warmth and heartbeat. He wanted an arse you could balance a tray on, an arse that cushioned his hips when he fucked his wife from behind and spread across his thighs when she straddled him. Molly fit the bill, fit it with such passion that he's never once looked at another woman since.

\---

It's about the boots, really. It took him a long time to be able to admit it to himself, but when he finally did, it was like the world was a new place. Boots. He likes the boots. The tall ones with the buckles and laces and the heel, the fucking _heel_ that looks so sharp it could punch right through leather. Draco can't stand up from the tall stool at his job when he sees a woman walk by with a pair of those wrapped around her legs. He likes it best when they stretch up her calves, smooth across her thighs. Any boot will get him hard, if he thinks about it - and working for the apothecary, good fuck, does he have time to think about it - but he likes it best when they're black and tall and shiny, and godgodgod.

There's one witch who comes in twice a month, shops for an hour, and never pays him any mind until she gets to the counter. He hates being ignored, but for her, he doesn't care. Does not give a damn that she hardly sees him, because she wears _boots_ under her long, open-fronted robes. Tall and shiny and black as every fucking sin he wants to commit with her, and as soon as she leaves, he locks the shop. He goes into the stock room, shoves his trousers to his knees, and he's hard and leaking before he's got his hand on his bollocks. It's embarrassing how quick he comes when he thinks about her, fantasizes about her on her back, with those long legs wrapped around his hips, and those _heels_ digging into his arse, and one of these days he's going to groan so loud that he shatters every alembic in the shop.


End file.
